


Kanima’s Prey

by SadaSymphonia



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Death, Fetish, Humiliation, M/M, Scat, Vore, extreme kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-22
Updated: 2020-03-22
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:21:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23265379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SadaSymphonia/pseuds/SadaSymphonia
Summary: Stiles watches Jackson to make sure he can’t turn into the kanima. Things end poorly for him.
Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Jackson Whittemore
Kudos: 30





	Kanima’s Prey

**Author's Note:**

> Read tags, avoid like the plague if this isn’t your deal.

Jackson woke in a daze, blinking confusedly as he squinted against the glare of the flickering fluorescent lights above his head. He grunted, shifting against the uncomfortable pressure of cool metal pressed against his bare back as he lay flat on . . . the floor? No, the wall.

Turning to look to the side, he blinked again to clear his vision and the dark shapes of trees clustered together beneath the moonlight sky swam into focus, framed by the flung-open doors of the prison transport van. Judging by the angle, the van had been flipped on its side, slid to the bottom of a ravine.

Jackson frowned, turning away from the open doors as a gust of wind whipped against his face. How the hell had he gotten here? He lay still, disoriented, then scowled deeply as the memories came flooding back.

Fucking McCall. And Stilinski. Those assholes had kidnapped him and dragged him out in the middle of the woods. He remembered being handcuffed, and raised his wrists to find them unchained. Glancing around the interior of the van, he saw the cuffs lying broken nearby.

*guuuuuuurgle* *glooooorrrrp*

His thoughts were interrupted by a sudden powerful churning in his stomach. He groaned, dragging himself into a sitting position, eyes going wide as he looked down at his body.

“What the fuck?” Fully awake now, Jackson stared at his bloated belly, a massive weighty bulge slowly shifting inside of him.

“Mmmph!”  A muffled voice sounded out from within Jackson’s swollen gut, startling him further.

“Holy shit. What the—uh . . . W-who’s in there?” he said, unsure of what to do.

“Finally! You’re awake!” The voice shouted, still muffled but a bit clearer this time.  “Let me out of here, dude! It smells awful in here and I can barely frickin’ breathe!”

Jackson blinked. “Stilinski?” he said, incredulous. Rolling his shoulders to relieve some tension, he dragged himself into a more upright position, cradling his bloated belly and massaging the sluggishly squirming bulge. “What the hell happened?”

He let out a surprised groan as Stiles kicked angrily against the fleshy walls of his prison.  “Umm. Duh! You swallowed me, you lunatic! Hurry up and let me out before I suffocate!”

Jackson opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by a bubble of air escaping in a loud, wet belch that echoed in the tight space of the van: *UUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRP!!*

His stomach lurched as the air was forced out, making his abs squeeze more tightly around the squirming bulge of Stiles inside of him. Jackson raised an eyebrow, rubbing experimentally over his distended gut, still baffled by the situation but nevertheless impressed by the way the muscle definition of his midsection was still faintly visible in spite of his belly’s roundness.

“Woah, woah! What the hell?” Stiles sounded freaked out now instead of merely irritated.  “Don’t do that again, man! I’m serious about the air in here, lizard boy. I feel like I’m gonna pass out.”

“Lizard boy . . .” Jackson repeated, his eyebrows narrowing as more flashes of memory flickered to the surface. He grimaced, lifting his hands and examining them warily, as if they might transform at any second against his will. “Right. You think I’m the kanima . . .”

“Well, if you weren’t convinced before, I’d say  this is pretty solid proof, don’t you?”  Stiles said sarcastically, squirming more vigorously for emphasis. “Now. Seriously, dude. Let me out.”

Standing unsteadily, Jackson crouched to avoid the ceiling as he walked to the open doors and stepped out of the overturned van, sucking a deep breath of fresh air into his lungs as he basked in the moonlight. The tattered remnants of his pants (shredded during his last transformation, he guessed) clung to his body, but he was otherwise naked. His toes curled against the earth and leaves as he walked away from the van and into the woods.

As he walked, Stiles was still struggling weakly inside his stomach, eliciting noisy gurgles as Jackson’s digestive system tried to process its sizable meal.

*guuuuuuurrrrrrrgle* *blooooorrrrrppp* *chhuuuurnnn*

Heading deeper into the woods, Jackson felt as though his mind was clearing. All thoughts of confusion or uncertainty were fading away, replaced by a sensation of overwhelming rightness. And fullness.

An idle smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth, and he slowed his pace, rubbing his hands over his skin and muscles, feeling the boy squirming in his stomach. “You know, you feel pretty good in there, Stilinski,” he said, picking at his bellybutton and scratching the faint, soft hairs of his happy trail.

“That’s not funny, Jackson,” Stiles said, punching out weakly. He sounded tired, almost too much so to be scared.

Jackson shrugged and yawned, leaning up against a treed and sliding down to recline comfortably. “Gotta say, I don’t really appreciated you kidnapping me. Maybe I’ll just keep you captive for a while, see how you like it.”

His belly shook a little with Stiles’ pathetic struggles.  “You’ve gotta let me out . . . you’re going to digest me . . .”

“That’s your problem, not mine,” Jackson said lazily, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. He slapped an open palm against his belly, provoking another monstrous belch. With a smug smile, he drifted off to sleep under the dark blanket of sky, enjoying the rapidly diminishing struggles of his classmate-turned-meal.

* * *

Jackson woke again, this time to the glare of the sun streaming through the branches of the trees overhead. Yawning widely and scratching his armpit, he stood from his resting spot, brushing bits of bark off his back and stretching out his limbs.

A dull gurgle attracted his attention, and a broad grin stretched across his face as the memories of last night’s events came back to him. He ran a hand over his taut abs, showing only the slightest remaining bloat to provide evidence that he had swallowed a fellow teenager whole.

*fffffffrrrrrrrrRRRRRRTTTTT*

Jackson chuckled, wrinkling his nose at the foul stench. “Ready to be let out now, Stilinski?” he sneered, waving a hand in front of his face.

Walking off a little ways, Jackson found a convenient hole nestled between two trees. Shredding off the remaining bits of fabric of his pants, he squatted down over the hole, feeling the pressure in his bowels building.

*ppppppppffffft* *FRRRRRRRT*

With another expulsion of gas, Jackson sighed and let out a contented groan as he flexed his tight, muscular ass and squeezed out the first thick log of brown shit. His cock twitched a little, aroused by both the sensation and the rush of power associated with reducing a human being to nothing but waste. Grunting, Jackson pushed out another massive log, catching a whiff of the powerful smell as Stiles’ remains coiled down into the earth.

When the last log broke away cleanly, Jackson stood upright, feeling lighter and freer, turning to smirk down at the sad, stinking pile of his former teammate.

“Thanks for being dinner, Stilinski,” he laughed. Then, thoughtfully, “Kind of a shame I can’t remember how you tasted. Maybe I should give McCall a little payback too, don’t you think?”

Chuckling, he walked away, the reptilian brain controlling his thoughts leaving no room for care or remorse. Only satisfaction.

And hunger.


End file.
